Whitefish River My name's Blurryface, and I care what you think

@Elara

Grezig's leaving had hit him harder than he cared to admit. She had helped he and Liri found the pack, and he naively assumed that she would be there forever. Of course he knew most wolves wouldn't stick around forever, but maybe he had held on to the hope that she would be around longer than she had. As sad as it was, he understood why she left, especially with the mess he had created. He was honestly surprised she hadn't left sooner. Still, he hated that she was gone, and he was having some trouble not only accepting it, but also dealing with the fact that it was partly his fault. So tonight, he had ventured outside the borders of the plateau and down to the river in the flatlands. 

At this point, snow pretty much covered everything, and the alpha left large wolf prints behind him as he made his way to the water. He stopped when his inky paws were flush with the freezing liquid, taking a quick look around before lowering his head to drink.

The sound of fast-approaching steps pulled his head from the water just in time to see two coyotes running towards him, teeth bared, their intent clear. He turned to face them just as the sandy one lunged for his neck. He grabbed the annoying creature in mid-air, flinging it to the ground as hard as he could. Satisfaction filled his chest, but it was short-lived; teeth sank into his thigh, and he snarled, throwing his head back to pull the dark brown coyote from his body. He threw the second coyote, and it hit the ground with a yelp just as the first attacker barreled into his side, forcing the alpha back a few steps. He snarled again facing the sandy beast as his dark brown friend came running back up to join in. He wasn't sure how he was going to win this, but there was no way he was dying at the paws of coyotes. This time, he lunged for the sandy coyote, teeth sinking into its shoulder. He flung his head back and forth to tear at the flesh, ignoring the bite to his own shoulder from the dark brown coyote. He just needed to kill one of them, and then he could focus all of his attention on killing the second one.

She's idly tracking the scent of two coyotes, possessing no intention of confronting the pair but curious at their movements. It's boredom, mainly, that drives this — and it proves rewarding enough when the scent of a wolf mixes into the trail, more faint than the other two. It seems she's not the only one tracking another. She doubts the coyotes' intentions are as benign as her own, however.
Her suspicions are confirmed by the distant sound of fighting as she continues, and instinctively she picks up her pace. She doesn't know what compels her to involve herself; maybe her ridiculous justice complex. She knows herself well enough to admit it, at least. When she catches sight of the three figures in the distance, she breaks into a run, bolting toward the scene with no sign of slowing down. She assesses the situation quickly, choosing her target only moments before she leaps with claws extended. The dark coyote stumbles as she slams into its flank, claws slicing easily through its flesh. The creature yelps and lashes out, forgetting the wolf as it turns to sink its jaws into her. Pain lances through her shoulder and she hisses, swiping the coyote's face and leaving deep gashes. It twists away from her for a moment, blinded and yelping wildly, and she takes the opportunity to retreat with several staggering steps backward. The wound on her shoulder is deep, quickly soaking her front with blood, and already she feels slightly dizzy.

He wasn't quite sure what happened at first. He heard the approach of another but was unable to really investigate who or what it was; he just assumed it was another coyote coming to the aid of its friends. The dark coyote continued to rip and tear at his shoulder as he did the same to the sandy beast between his teeth. He was surprised to feel the dark one jerk and release his flesh, and then he heard the sounds of fighting. Risking a quick glance, he saw that a--bobcat had come to his aid. He had no time to really ponder why they would be helping him because the sandy coyote took advantage of his temporary distraction and wrenched free of his jaws, whipping back around on him and lunging at his face.

Kavik met his attacker and threw it to the ground, jaws searching for its neck but finding the chest instead. He sank into the coyotes flesh once more, moving his head back and forth again to do maximum damage. He heard the other beast yelping in pain and picked up its momentary retreat in his peripheral. He hoped his unexpected helper was able to hold their own for just a little longer; the sandy coyote was growing weak from injury and blood loss. He just needed a little more time.